


Midnight at the Oasis

by Bongolicious



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Light Bondage, Oasis (Overwatch), Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bongolicious/pseuds/Bongolicious
Summary: Something happened last night...





	Midnight at the Oasis

She woke to her head thumping in her skull. Awareness returning, her mind started to assess the situation. What happened last night? She shouldn't have drank whatever she drank.

The bright desert sun of Oasis spilled into the room. It was too much for her booze soaked doctor's brain to handle.

With a groan Angela slowly shifted her head under the sheets. That movement revealed a lot of new information. She was naked under and could feel the warm fabric caressing and in some places sticking to her. Realizing the situation she thrusted her arm out to either side hitting nothing but pillows and sheets. Blue eyes peeked out into the room, she was alone in her hotel suite.

The room was as disheveled as she felt. Her formal clothes tossed in a heap, shoes kicked into two different directions. Trying to remember the night before was excruciating, the hangover not letting a single clear thought.

Sitting up something caught her foot and dragged when she swung her legs off the side of the bed. Still squinting from the bright sunlight she grabbed it. "It's a rope? Oh, oh!" she froze. Opening her eyes fully she could see the long crimson rope coiling out from under the sheets. She let go of it like it was a cobra not a rope. Too many questions as pangs of memories started to flash through her mind.

Her clouded memory let her remember hopeful buzzed eyes looking at her, a slurred "why not" rolling off her lips. How it felt as unknown but familiar set of hands expertly wove the rope around her arms. It didn't hurt, there were no bruises, she could remember how exhilarating it felt. The scarlet faced Doctor smiled for a moment then frowned again as she saw the green bottle.

The Doctor stood still blushing hard from head to toe. She walked over to the small counter where the cause of all this sat. Unsteady hands grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Jameson and tossed it into the bin, flinging the last few drops against the wall. Knowing it wasn't the boozes fault, she was too easy sometimes.

Angela headed to the shower, snapping it to as hot as it could. Before entering she caught herself in the mirror. Small deep bruises paraded up and down her neck, dark smears of lipstick, hair was a matted mess, makeup smeared, mouth tasted like whiskey and...

She stepped into the shower mouth open. As she bathed off the glaze of the night before her phone started buzzing. Uncaring she continued to shower. Her housekeeping bot whirred to life cleaning up the suite.

Twenty minutes later a bathed, brushed, clothed, and mostly bushy tailed Angela stepped out of the bathroom into the tidy suite. Walking to the stand that that held her phone she glanced at the made bed, the crimson rope rolled and set gently on the edge. She snapped back suddenly unsure if she should look at her messages, but she had too.

##Unknown Number##  
**  
8:05AM You're late for the AM conference. You said you could handle Whiskey.  
**  
8:07AM Really? Are you even awake? Typical.  
**  
8:11AM I told them you were jetlagged, which is a hard sell being you are a nanoreparative bot hive.  
**  
8:18AM When you decide to return to the living just give the housekeeping bot my things, wrapped up please, and send them to room 788.  
**  
8:19AM Last night was good.  
**  
8:20AM I mean great.  
**

Only one person would call her a bot hive.

Her memories flooded back.

She had been trying to avoid Moira the first day of the conference in Oasis. She knew she was there. Minister of Genetics, she had to play ball to keep Overwatch in Oasis' good graces. She didn't mean to hit a home run. Damnit, she should have known better than to accept an invitation for whisky & conversation, the Swiss was no match for the Irishman.

"Shit" the good doctor exclaimed. Her body blushing again from head to toe. But, the Doctor wasn't mad. In fact she smiled,  a grown woman can do what she wants with whom she wanted.

She reached for a pen and paper, quickly writing a note. She grabbed the box the Jamison came in, then placed the note and rope inside. Handing the container to the bot and letting it know where to take it, it quickly whirred off.

Smiling, Angela stepped into the hallway. Her little note giving her an extra skip to her step, looking forward to that evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This was pretty fast & rough, sorry it's a mess.


End file.
